


Thirst

by Stariceling



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist the Movie: Conqueror of Shamballa, Community: 12daysofxxxmas, Lime, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:44:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stariceling/pseuds/Stariceling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because of Alfons, Ed realizes he has a thirst for something new. He just has to forget who Alfons reminds him of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place between the end of the first anime and the events of the movie. Even though it's Ed/Alfons, there's still incestuous themes involved.

Ed hadn’t enjoyed working with another person this much since the time he had spent studying with his brother when they were both young. He didn’t know if it was that Alfons looked like his brother, even laughed like him sometimes, or if it was just that Alfons shared in his interests. The two of them could guess each other’s tempers often enough to collaborate without anyone’s nerves getting shot.

It wasn’t that Alfons looked that much like Al, Ed tried to tell himself repeatedly. Not when he had no idea how Al would grow up to look. Or might have grown up to look. He didn’t have any of Al’s memories, so he wasn’t Al. Never mind that the shape of his face and curve of his smile made Ed want to be near him, to look after him like a good older brother should. They could collaborate together. That was all that mattered.

And so he had stayed with Alfons. He had never made a secret of the fact that he liked working together with the other man, and eventually they ended up renting a flat together. It was easier that way, even if it was harder having to look up a hundred times a day and suddenly remember who he was speaking to.

When Ed was trying to go through a few last calculations, Alfons came up behind him to read over his shoulder. Nothing unusual about that, these days. Ed didn’t even look up.

“Don’t spill that,” Ed reminded him instinctively, referring to the glass of water in Alfons’s hand. He remembered the time Al had spilled water on his alchemy notes, years ago, and he had yelled at his brother and made him cry and they hadn’t spoken for hours. He didn’t want to repeat that.

“I won’t.” Alfons wasn’t Al. He hadn’t even blinked, because he didn’t share that memory. He simply set his glass of water down on the table.

“I know.” Ed reached up and ruffled Alfons’s hair clumsily with his free hand. “Here, look at this-”

Alfons was looking at him instead, his head tilted under the weight of Ed’s hand. He had one eye closed in an expression of confusion. Ed lifted his hand away, trying to laugh as he turned back to the table.

“I guess that’s a weird thing to do. Sorry. Anyway, this is. . .”

He trailed off when Alfons put one hand on the back of his chair, confused by the feeling of Alfons leaning close over _him_ , and not over his notes. He looked up to find out what was wrong, but as soon as he lifted his head, Alfons was right in front of him, kissing him.

Ed felt his eyes go wide, but all he could see was the face in front of him. That face that reminded him of Al even from this angle, with their lips locked together.

Unable to just sit petrified, Ed jumped out of his seat, and jerked away towards the table, knocking over Alfons’s water in the process. Before he could grab it, water splashed out over his arm, the table, and the sheets of half-finished calculations.

Alfons broke off at once as Ed grabbed for the papers, lifting them out of the puddle on the table. He wanted to shout and swear, but before he could get started Alfons was gone. Deprived of his outlet, Ed let out quick, angry breaths as he spread the papers out on the part of the table that was still dry.

In a moment Alfons was back with towels. He helped Ed to mop up the water and attempt to dry the papers without tearing them or smearing the ink too badly, while Ed seethed quietly.

“I’m really sorry.”

“I spilled it,” Ed snapped, ignoring the apology completely.

“No, for startling you. I thought you-”

“Look, I spilled the water and you’re not going to say anything else about it!”

“I’m not talking about the water.”

Ed looked down at the wet towel clenched in his hands. It had been unexpected, nothing more. He took the glass and drank the last few drops of water left. It was warm, and faintly coppery, and did nothing to help him think.

Whatever panic was going through his head, Ed couldn’t help noticing how badly Alfons seemed to be taking it. He was the one who wanted to look after Alfons, even a little bit, and after some of the things Ed had gone through this seemed like such a stupid thing to get worked up over.

Before Alfons could open he mouth to apologize again, Ed leaned up and kissed him back, right on the mouth. “There. We’re even. Nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not interested in just being even.” Alfons put one hand on Ed’s waist to draw him closer. Ed knew what was coming, and this time he instinctively moved to meet it. When he closed his eyes, Ed found he could quietly banish the thought that Alfons looked like his brother. He could concentrate on those warm, wet lips pressed against his. He reached up and smoothed his hand around the back of Alfons’s neck, feeling short, fine hairs under his fingers.

Even when Alfons let him go, Ed could sense that they had exchanged some unspoken secret, mouth to mouth.

“We shouldn’t say anything about-”

“No,” Ed agreed. He had to step back to get around Alfons. There wasn’t anything else to say, only an odd, heavy feeling between them that Ed didn’t know how to respond to. “I’m going to get some more water.”

“I’m not thirsty anymore.” Alfons reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling cheerfully. He seemed to be recovering quickly from whatever-it-was that weighted down the air.

“I am.” Ed did his best to grin back and mean it, though his mouth felt oddly tired from that strange new exercise. “And I won’t spill any more.”

And nothing more was said about it. Nothing more needed to be said, even as the air felt thicker and heavier with unexpressed tension, until Ed was sure he would drown in it.

* * *

Those few kisses remained ignored through dinner and the quiet hours re-copying and finishing the smeared calculations. Alfons didn’t mention what had happened, but something about the brush of his hand over Ed’s when he told him to go to bed already made Ed stay awake, waiting.

He wasn’t kept waiting long. In the silence and dark of the night, Alfons slipped into his bed. They kissed. Desperately, continually, to keep the words in. Alfons only broke off the kisses once or twice, to lick his palms before his hands slipped down into Ed’s underwear. Then his mouth was back, making Ed swallow startled noises at being touched by cool, damp hands.

Together, they touched and grappled and arched. It was easier not to think in the dark. Once Ed was robbed of Alfons’s face or voice, or anything but those hungry lips and hands, it was easier to let go.

Ed discovered a craving he had never even been aware of as he rolled over on top of Alfons. He wanted to touch the other boy until he moaned, and swallow those moans greedily so that no one else would ever know what they had done in the darkness together.

Even once they finished and had to break apart, shuddering, to gasp for breath, Ed didn’t quite feel satiated. He stayed where he was, straddling Alfons and kissing him over and over, until Alfons had to shove him off so they could get cleaned up. At least Alfons let himself be pulled back into bed for more kisses, after, with the whispered promise that it was only for a minute or two, and of course he could go back to his own bed later.

Ed dreamed afterward, though only briefly. Sensual visions with Alfons’s face before him, he dreamed of that voice echoing as if it was muffled by water, or empty metal. Cool hands light on his skin. Echoing words whispered against his ear, “Niisan. Niisan, I missed you.”

When he startled awake, Ed knew he was not alone in the darkness. He held his breath for a second or two before reaching out. . . but the contact of fingers with warm, bare skin was all it took to tell him that he was not home.


End file.
